Hey, Public Beach-Pee-ers: We All Know What You’re Doing
(And other humorous observations of a newly coined 50-something)
I’m a new part-time Floridian (I’m practicing for retirement) and a new 50-year-old.
At 50, I’m all about observing and judging. Add that to the fact that I haven’t met many friends here yet, and you have a judgment disaster on your hands.
A woman with nothing to do other than, well, watch!
Let me enlighten you as to the oddities I have observed.
People Do the Weirdest Things At the Beach
The other day, I was innocently people-watching at the beach when a very elegant 30-something woman in a sleek 1950s-esque swimsuit daintily strolled into the ocean.
She casually squatted, pretending she was trying to avoid a wave, and looked around.
“Wait, is she peeing?” I thought.
The beach I frequent has crystal clear waters. There are few secrets (or shall I say pee-crets). But she, probably being a tourist, didn’t seem to realize that.
After she peed, she stayed there for a couple minutes, pretending to observe the sand below her. And then she kind of smiled.
“Nothing to see her. Not tinkling. Just enjoying the ocean for a few minutes!”
Then she elegantly returned to shore. She was done with her public pee.
(We see you, beach pee-ers. We know what you’re doing!)
There was another woman nearby who had a creeper — her 80s-style mono-kini had crept right up her tush.
She shifted, giggled innocently and did a little spin while she plucked her bathing suit out of her crack, as if she thought we weren’t all silently observing.
Her ass cheeks, in fact, were so sanded they looked like Christmas sugar cookies. The thing is, she didn’t seem to notice or care.
But the highlight of my secret spying mission was the gentleman sitting under a resort cabana reading the newspaper.
He looked stuffy, but not so stuffy as to avoid a public, well, nose pick. You know what I mean — he pretended he was simply scratching, but slipped a quick pick in there behind his morning news.
That’s when I realized, we do the strangest things in public. (Perhaps it’s just that my OCD oh-so-notices?)
Am I Still a Tourist?
The thing is, I can never decide if I’m a tourist, a resident or some kind of wanderer who is casually stopping by Florida for a year or two to escape reality.
This 50 thing is new, and as a part of my expensive midlife crisis, my fiancé and I rented an elaborate place here to spend more time with my father.
At first, I felt kind exotic being the younger person living the dream. But as I embrace 50, I see the future all-too-clearly.
Particularly when it comes to driving.
In any other state, one would be arrested for terrible driving, probably questioned for possible driving under the influence.
Not here.
In fact, just the other day, a man in front of me slowed down to a creep on a very busy street where the speed limit was 40 miles an hour.
I cursed under my breath (while of course smiling, because that’s what people seem to do here), thinking his driving couldn’t get worse.
Wrong.
He then came to a complete stop. In the middle of the road. He stopped for what seemed like 30 seconds before he decided he was going to turn right with no turn signal.
No one honked. No one flipped him the bird. It was as if this was absolutely normal.
And maybe in Florida it is?
Stoplight lipstick application is also a thing, and it drives me crazy. There have been many times when I have been stuck at the exact same light because the woman in front of me pulled open her visor mirror to casually put on lipstick.
It happened two days ago. I sat there, of course cursing under my breath, as two cycles of stoplights passed. Why? After the lipstick came some sort of hair fluffing experience complete with a brightly colored comb.
Were the other two people at the stoplight behind me honking? Nope.
I watched in my rear view as both cars passed by and waved, apparently congratulating this woman on her excellent lipstick application and great hair.
The real question is…why does everyone wave here? Like everybody. They slow down while waving, too. It’s that wave you would give your favorite neighbor, but you’ve never met this person in your life.
Is this going to be me soon? After all, at 50, it’s all downhill from here. And does anyone else in Florida notice these strange things?
I guess time will tell. Or, I will actually make some friends and I won’t care anymore.
